Ambassadors
by Kuroeia
Summary: -Yuri, Flynn, Zelos, Sheena- A pair of envoys from a very foreign country come to ask for aid. Flynn feels hospitable. Yuri rediscovers his intolerance for alcohol.


**A/N: For Ikustioa, with whom I recently had an entertaining and fruitful exchange of emails about just such things as appear in this fic. Please forgive the uninspired title.**

**Fandoms: Tales of Vesperia, Tales of Symphonia**

**Prompt: Two characters from each sit down to dinner.**

**xxxxx**

_**Ambassadors**_

**xxxxx**

Yuri picks at the sleeve of his uniform and makes a subtle face.

Flynn notices, of course, and shoots him a glare that usually peels the skin off everyone it's directed at. Yuri's been immune to it for years-- things like that are only effective until they get used on you three times a day for everything from speaking out of turn in lessons to folding your socks incorrectly. The shock effect wears off.

Rolling his eyes and staring at the ceiling, bored out of his skull, Yuri tries to remember exactly how he ended up here, at an imperial function, dressed like a captain of the imperial army, pretending to be on the empire's side. It's been years since he walked out and told them all where they could stick their high-handed tactics, and he's pretty sure he's proven with the whole Adephagos debacle that he's worth something as a person without being surgically attached to the empire's backside.

Flynn understands this. Yuri knows he does. So why the deception?

When asked, Flynn had hurriedly blustered something about 'not wanting to make them uncomfortable' and 'presenting a unified front' and 'factions,' which hadn't really made much sense at all, probably because at the time Flynn had been speaking at approximately ten words per second with his face obscured by several thick layers of fabric, cursing between every five words or so when he couldn't find the openings for the sleeves of his uniform.

Yuri, personally, is tempted to think Flynn just likes dressing him up.

In any case, here he is, about to sit down to dinner with a couple of dignitaries from 'out of country,' though there seems to be something odd about that too.

"Here they come," hisses Flynn, "straighten your spine, try to look-- well, don't be a--"

Whatever Flynn was going to say is interrupted by the timely arrival of their guests.

There are two of them, one man and one woman.

The man is the flashiest person Yuri has ever seen, which is saying something because Yuri's traveled with Raven and Judith. His hair is orange, for starters. He's sure the girls of the court could think of a poetic way to describe the exact shade, probably involving sunsets and overripe peaches, but basically it's so orange it nearly glows. His outfit is pink, white, and gold, which reminds Yuri immediately of Estelle's dress and leads to a hysterical mental picture of this guy in Estelle's dress which is really not a productive train of thought at all.

The woman is hardly less flashy, having what appears to be a large white bra protruding from her gaping belt-secured top and skin-tight leggings, but at least she has the decency to be wearing muted shades of purple and have unremarkable dark hair. The expression on her face makes those small mitigating points essentially useless, however, because the man has just said something to her and Yuri has never seen a sardonic smirk done the way she is doing it right now. She reminds him of Judith, if Judith were much, much less laid back.

They are, Yuri tries not to notice, remarkably good-looking people.

"Good evening, and I bid you welcome to the court of the Empire in Zaphias," says Flynn formally. "We are honoured by your presence."

"Well, isn't he a charmer," says the woman, crossing her arms and regarding them with an arched eyebrow and a badly hidden grin.

"Hey, now, no flirting," teases the man, and is rewarded with an indelicate elbow to the midriff.

Yuri grins. He likes these people already, mostly because a quick sidelong glance tells him Flynn has no idea what to do, and seeing him flustered is always fun.

"Er," says Flynn. "I am Commandant Flynn Scifo of the Imperial Army. This is Captain Yuri Lowell."

It's funny, reflects Yuri, that his fake rank is several higher than any he ever held while actually _in_ the army.

"Sheena Fujibayashi," says the woman, reaching out to shake their hands firmly. It takes them both a minute to figure out what she wants with their hands, and a great deal of effort not to stare when they do understand. They presume it's meant to be some sort of greeting, but it's unfamiliar to them, and weirdly intimate. "This moron is Zelos Wilder."

"Hey," says Zelos in mock offense, then again, "hey," in greeting to Yuri and Flynn.

"We have prepared an evening repast in the dining hall, if you would just--"

Sheena claps her hands once. "Food! Oh, thank the spirits, I haven't eaten properly in _weeks_."

"--follow me," finishes Flynn lamely, turning stiffly to lead the way down the hallway.

"So, where exactly are you from again?" Yuri asks as they walk, curious. He's been all over the world and he's never seen anyone like them. Which is saying something, since he's met some pretty weird people, like Yeager, and Cumore, and Duke with his freaky eyes.

Zelos scratches his head. "That's kinda hard to explain, truth be told," he confesses ruefully. "If I said 'summon spirits,' would you know what I meant?"

"No," replies Yuri truthfully.

"Then it's impossible to explain."

"Right then," says Yuri. "Soo... how was the trip?"

"Crappy," they say in unison.

"...Right then.," Yuri says again, at a loss for something more intelligent to say. "So, I hear we're having roast rappig."

xxxxx

Two hours later and rip-roaring drunk, Yuri finds himself in the center of a tug-of-war.

On one end is Zelos, who seems to have ideas about going off somewhere to have a manly chat, in the shadows, without shirts. Sheena does not seem to disapprove of this, as she's only standing back with her arms crossed and one eyebrow flying high on her forehead. Yuri feels vaguely vindicated for wondering about Zelos's sexuality.

On the other is Flynn, either trying to rescue him or kidnap him for their own manly chat, Yuri can't really tell and is far too drunk to care which it is.

It's a well-guarded-- which, in the army, actually means only-moderately-well-known-- secret that Yuri can't hold his liquor. Flynn certainly knows, which begs the question why he thought it was a good idea to keep refilling Yuri's wine glass.

The room spins madly overhead.

"How about we negotiate a truce?" pants Zelos, grinning like a jackal, his grip on Yuri's left arm no less steely for the quantity of good liquor he's downed this evening.

"M'not a... um," says Yuri intelligently, trying to remember the word he's looking for to explain exactly what he is not.

"Right," agrees Flynn with whatever it is he almost managed to say, "he's not. He's a grown man with his own free will and he is terribly intoxicated so I must say I think your current conduct is shameless and hardly becoming of an ambassador--"

Zelos stares at him in mute amazement. "How is it that despite drinking enough to drown a cow you're still a total stick in the mud?"

Flynn, to Yuri's great delight, turns tomato-red and clenches his jaw. "I am not," he says slowly and carefully as though imparting an insight of great wisdom, "a stick in the mud."

"Are too," replies Zelos obstinately.

"I am not!"

"Are too."

"_Am not!_"

Unable to help himself, Yuri breaks into peals of laughter and nearly falls of his chair. Startled, Flynn lets go of his arm, and the release of tension sends him rocketing back against Zelos's rather bony chest with not-inconsiderable force. "Ow," he says vaguely. "Leggo my arm."

Wheezing, Zelos complies and backs up to rub his wounded torso with a useless hand.

"For goodness' sake, you're all like little kids," snaps Sheena, not really angry. "Really _dumb_ kids."

Finally free, Yuri manages to find his feet and wobbles perilously in her direction. "Now see," he says, looking into her eyes, "if I'm going home with anyone tonight, it's you."

In the next few moments Yuri learns several things.

First, she has a better right hook even that Judith, which is impressive. Secondly, apparently Sheena is not allowed to do anything with anyone unless Zelos can do it too, preferably at the same time. Third, Yuri is not allowed to go home with anyone while not in possession of his full faculties without Flynn's express permission, which he will not be giving to anyone but himself. Lastly, being punched in the face while extremely drunk is possibly the fastest route to unconsciousness ever invented.

The world goes black.

xxxxx

When Yuri wakes, it is to Flynn sitting on a chair two feet from his bed and glaring at him reproachfully.

"Don't look at me," Yuri rasps, wondering who replaced his throat with sandpaper and his head with a ball of pulsating agony. "You were the one with the bottle."

"Our guests have left," Flynn informs him, ignoring this. "You slept through their departure."

"Did I sleep with either of them?"

"_No._"

Yuri sighs. "Damn."

A quick glance at Flynn reveals the buildup of an apoplectic rage well underway. The vein on his forehead is already standing out. That's a bad sign.

Sighing, Yuri pulls a pillow over his head and prepares to ignore everything he hears for the next hour.

It's going to be a long day.

**XxxxxX**

**A/N:** XD


End file.
